


Held

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, M/M, Ramblings, angsty, cute ish, idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1260130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean will never admit this, not even on his deathbed, but he loves being the little spoon. He never knew how comforting it was to have someone’s arms fold around him, to be stilled by the warmth of another body as he fell into deep sleep. He never knew how much he craved this kind of physical touch during the nights, something other than the one night stands he’s known for. </p><p>And he never knew Cas could be the one who opened his eyes to all of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!!

Dean will never admit this, not even on his deathbed, but he loves being the little spoon. He never knew how comforting it was to have someone’s arms fold around him, to be stilled by the warmth of another body as he fell into deep sleep. He never knew how much he craved this kind of physical touch during the nights, something other than the one night stands he’s known for. 

And he never knew Cas could be the one who opened his eyes to all of this.

It started off innocently enough, in the night Cas stayed before Eze — _G_ _adriel_  — forced Dean to kick him out of the house. Cas didn’t hate him, not then anyway, but he was quiet, with a look of absolute and pure sadness and betrayal on his face. Instead of putting Cas in one of the empty, soulless rooms for the night, he’d invited Cas back to his. No big deal, he’d just take the chair or sleep on the ground. And he had, up until he heard thrashing and Cas’ screaming, and then he’d found himself in the bed beside the fallen angel, stroking the sweaty hair off of his face and repeating “it’s okay Cas, you’re okay” and Cas looked up at him with big, horrified eyes and said, “stay”. 

Dean stayed.

After Cas had calmed down, after clutching on to Dean like he would float away, he’d loosened his grip on Dean’s shirt and pulled Dean close to him, slotting his body against Dean’s to fit, well, perfectly. Dean had lay there paralyzed with shock as Cas’ hand slithered down his stomach until his arm draped heavily over his body, his eyes widened as Cas’ knees fit in the backs of Dean’s knees, his thighs pressed to the back of Dean’s. He almost threw Cas off of him when the other man’s breath tickled the back of his neck.

Instead, he just forced his eyes shut, and took deep breaths to calm himself down. And somehow, someway, he relaxed himself enough to fall asleep, even though another man, even though  _Cas_  was cuddling with him.

And in the morning, seeing him leave was that much harder.

—

When he had seen Cas next, it was like the man hadn’t even remembered what happened between them. It was all Dean could think about, and seeing Cas had been the highlight of, well, since he’d seen him last, and Cas looked like he didn’t even want to be around him.

Which was a shame because in any other circumstance he’d have poked fun at his nerdy little vest and pushed back hair, but he was so distracted by the absolute distaste in Cas’ face, he couldn’t even make a “I guess you’re a nerdy dude even without the trench coat” joke.

Luckily, somehow, Cas warmed up to having Dean around again, and after his failed “date”, and Cas’ confession of sleeping in the gas station, Dean’d booked a motel for them to crash at for the night.

Two beds, of course.

They took turns showering, Cas first, because, well, Dean was a gentleman, of course, and he could sympathize with Cas’ newness to humanity (and how fucking awesome showers were after not having them for a long time). When Cas came out of the bathroom holding a towel loosely around his lower half, Dean couldn’t be held responsible for his hasty retreat into the bathroom (much less his actions while  _in_ the shower). When Dean came out (fully dressed), Cas was sitting on the bed, eyes fixed on the fuzzy screen of the television, holding his towel to his bleeding hand.

Well, fuck. Dean had forgotten about that. He made a quick dash to his baby, and grabbed his first aid kit. After stitching Cas up, (“don’t growl at me Cas, I told you it was gonna hurt”), and Cas had gotten significantly buzzed from the whiskey, (“drink this Cas, it’ll dull the pain”), Cas had pulled him on top of him, hands fisted in his shirt.

"You’re drunk," Dean laughed, and tried to pull away, but Cas kept his hold on Dean tight. Dean looked down at Cas’ dark, shining eyes, and flushed face.

"Kiss me anyway," he said back, and Dean’s eyebrows raised.

"You have no idea what you’re saying," Dean felt Cas’ grip falter, and took this opportunity to sit back on the bed.

"Stay with me," Cas said, moving over to the far side of the bed, his eyes apologetic. Dean sighed.

And he stayed with Cas that night.

That night, it wasn’t as weird to have Cas’ body fit into Dean’s like a puzzle piece, to feel his breath tickle the back of his neck, to feel the warmth of his body seep into his own, and he fell asleep feeling, for now the second time, safe.

And when he left Cas the next morning, the “I’m sorry” still on his tongue, it reopened the wounds from the last time he said goodbye, and poured salt on it.

—

Kevin died. Because of him. Sam was possessed. Because of him. Cas was gone. Because of him. 

And Dean was just selfish enough to call him again, to ask for his help. And when Cas showed up, despite everything, he couldn’t help how his hopes lifted significantly at seeing his friend, new trench coat on, angel-fied glory instilled in him again. For a second, everything was okay. Until Cas asked if he was okay.

Until he remembered why Cas was back.

And then everything came crashing back down into reality.

Angel war, Sam, Abaddon, Gadriel, Metatron,  _Kevin_. 

Dean and Cas would have to sort their stuff out later; right now, they had to find Gadriel, and get Sam back.

—

He expected Sam to be mad at him, expected him to hate him, expected all of it. He didn’t expect Cas to stay with Sam instead of him.

What was it Cas had said once? That he and Dean had a “profound bond”? It had hurt Sam’s girl feelings, he’d remembered, and although Sam should have expected it (“Sam, he pulled me out of hell, of course we have a profound bond or whatever”), he never really thought about what it meant until now. Had Cas finally realized that Dean wasn’t worth his time? Had he been lying about “you did the wrong things for the right reasons”? He wouldn’t doubt it. Everything else in his life had gone to shit, why not Cas, too?

And when he accepted the mark of Cain while Cas was with Sam, he couldn’t really care less about his future, about what would happen to him. He deserved everything that was bound to happen to him now.

But after he was accepted back into the bunker by Sam, after he drunkenly made his way back to his room, he noticed the bed rumpled on the left side, where Cas had stayed before all of this mess happened. But he’d made his bed before that, he was sure of it.

So when Cas stayed here, all mojo’d up, had he stayed in his bed?

Dean made his way to his side of the bed, and closed his eyes.

Maybe once all of this was over, he’d still have Cas to look forward to.

—

Dean lays in his bed, listening to music, eyes closed, on his side of the bed, trying not to think about his brother, of the angel war, of Abaddon, Metatron, Kevin, or the lack of his angel on the other side of the bed. One day, it’ll all be taken care of. And until then, he can always imagine Cas laying on the other side of the bed, getting ready to pull Dean into his arms, fitting into him like he’d always belonged.


End file.
